


Dependable

by SevenCorvus



Series: Avengers 50 Prompt Table [22]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Clint Feels, First Time, Gift Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Pining, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fic, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevenCorvus/pseuds/SevenCorvus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint was used to being able to depend on Coulson.</p><p>Prompt: washing<br/>Characters: Clint Barton/Phil Coulson</p><p>Written for florahart on the C/C Gift Exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dependable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [florahart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/florahart/gifts).



> Also written as part of my NaNoWriMo project, and for the prompt "washing" on the [Avengers 50 Prompt Table](http://sevencorvus.livejournal.com/24907.html). Each of my prompt fills will be covering a different character combination. I will be posting a fic a day for the rest of this month (at least). Feedback is love and will be rewarded with cookies (and smut).
> 
> Thank you so much to LDF for betaing for me, it was very much appreciated. I hope you liked your gift florahart, and I'm considering writing a sequel from Phil's POV for your other prompt. "winks"

Clint was used to being able to depend on Coulson; on the calm voice in his ear, the steady presence at his side, the certainty of back up, that he would not be left behind, would not be abandoned. Most people might not consider the word dependable to be terribly romantic, but for someone who had grown up never being able to count on anything, on anyone, even his own family, someone accustomed to leaping into space without a safety net, having an individual like Coulson in his life was a priceless gift.

He had determined years ago to appreciate every moment he had with Coulson to the fullest, and not to push for more. The archer had a handler who asked for his opinions, who trusted his judgment in the field, who treated him as more than just another asset. To ask for more would have been immeasurably selfish. Clint remembered the first time he had woken up in Medical to find the agent working on paperwork by his bedside. No one had ever done anything like that before, been there for him while he was recovering. Coulson was often called away, but whenever he could he would return to check on Clint, not just concerned about his condition, but about him.

Coulson did other things as well, driving him home when he was injured or sick, watching over him when he had a concussion, helping him bathe and dress when Clint needed the assistance. It was almost enough to make Clint look for ways to get injured, having the other man’s attention on him like that, professional, yet so gentle, as if he deserved it.

He told himself that Coulson was just treating him the same way he would treat any asset, maybe even friend, that it was not anything special. He told himself that it was enough, more than enough, to have those stolen moments of intimacy. He told himself that he was happy, that he did not need anything else, and he believed it, until Loki happened.

Clint had always thought of Coulson as invincible, not that he could not get injured, but that nothing could keep him down for long. Almost losing him like that, spending days not knowing if he would survive, if he would ever wake up again, gave him a glimpse of just what it would be like to live without Coulson in his life. He could not pretend any more, could not lie to himself that he did not want more with Coulson, that he did not want everything.

He drifted through the days until Coulson woke up, feeling like he was in free fall without a parachute, nothing there to catch him or slow his fall, off balance physically and mentally. The foundation of his existence had been shaken, and he was not going to lose Coulson again, was not going to let anything happen to him. He hovered over his handler as he recovered, determined to return the favor from when Coulson had taken care of him. It was his turn now, his turn to show the other man that he cared, to shower him with the attention that Clint had been given so freely.

Clint took him home after he was finally released from Medical, not wanting to let him out of his sight. He helped him into the apartment, and then the bathroom, knowing Coulson would want to shower after so long, that it would make him feel better. There was nothing wrong with helping him, not after all those times that Coulson had done the same for him. He could be as professional as the other man had been. He was just assisting his handler, his friend, while he was injured; it did not have to mean anything more than that.

Clint had wanted to take things slow, to court his handler the way he deserved, to show him how serious he was, how much he wanted to have him. Not just in his bed, but in his life, in every way possible. But having Coulson, no, Phil in his arms after so long, feeling that beloved flesh under his hands, seeing that terrible scar that had almost killed him, almost taken his Phil from him, he could not reign himself in. He could not help turning his professional strokes into caresses, could not help pulling that vulnerable back against him, wanting to shield Phil with his own body, to take any blows meant for him. And when Phil relaxed against him, leaning his neck back against Clint’s shoulder, he could not resist kissing him, tasting those lips the way he had wanted to for so long.

Phil’s muscles tensed for a moment as if startled, before he moaned against Clint’s mouth, his lips parting for the archer’s tongue. Clint held the kiss until they were both light headed, leaving that tempting mouth to run his lips down Phil’s neck, sucking the soft skin to leave a mark of his own. Holding him carefully supported, he grasped Phil’s cock, stroking his fingers down the hard length, caressing the head with his thumb, his calluses rubbing against the sensitive skin. He licked his lips at the feel of precum dripping from the slit, promising himself that he would one day get the chance to taste it. Clint brought Phil to a quick climax, wanting to prolong the moment, yet knowing it was better saved for another time.

He cleaned him off carefully, brushing his lips against the scar on his back in a tender kiss. Clint guided him out of the tub, wrapped a towel around him, then gently pushed him into the bedroom and onto the bed. He stood there for a long moment, looking Phil over, seeing his wet disheveled hair, his beautiful sated eyes, the bruises forming on his neck. He was the most gorgeous thing Clint had ever seen. He stood there feeling the warmth in his chest, all the love and affection he felt showing in his eyes, before kneeling in front of Phil, taking his hands in his own, and asking, “Will you marry me?”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: “Post-Avengers (Coulson lives, obvs), non-established relationship, in which Coulson feels gross after days in a hospital bed, and Clint helps him shower, which Coulson has helped him with before under less dire but similar circumstances, but now they're not pretending to be unaffected any more.”


End file.
